Katana
by CrowCake
Summary: Itachi POV: A katana does not get to choose its master. If the master is unhappy, he will choose another blade to take the place of the first, not give up the war. Sasuke cannot become my spare no matter what.


When I came of age, I was told the true intentions of the Uchiha clan. I was scared, certainly but it was what they told me afterwards that frightened me the most; I was the keystone to the whole operation, they said. I heard the admiration with which my father told me this, and I noticed it was the same admiration he spoke with whenever I did something right in his eyes. I think it was that night that I began to realize that my father didn't love me, not the way a father should love his son at least.

He didn't love me unconditionally, but only for what I was and what I could do for the clan. And bit by bit, my vision became clearer. I saw more within my family, things I was too terrified to imagine at such a young age. No one loved me. Like my father, they only wanted to use me. As I looked with eyes more and more advanced I realized I was nothing more than a tool.

A part of me wanted to rebel and to refuse to be used in such a way. But another part told me that if I did that, they would scorn me and I still wouldn't be loved. So I went by their demands, if only to be accepted. I hated myself for ever step I took under their command. I was a katana, wielded by the clan. A katana cannot stop what its master wishes it to do, no matter how much it doesn't want to strike the opponent. It was a vicious cycle and I was trapped.

But all this was forgotten when I remembered him.

Sasuke's birth was a mistake from the start; my parents planned to get rid of him as soon as he was born and call it a miscarriage. I was the only prodigy son they would ever need; another child would just be a burden. The Third knew this perfectly well, and not only did he announce the pregnancy to the entire village, but assigned the best medical staff to help deliver the baby. It was battle of wits and manipulation that I watched at the sidelines at the tender age of five, absorbing ever detail. So it came to pass that my parents had no choice but to keep Sasuke, but that doesn't mean they were happy with him.

Originally, I believe they planned to raise him as my spare, in case I failed them somehow. The first time I saw him, small, vulnerable, tiny little human being that he was, I didn't see a way that he could ever live up to my clan's expectations. After the night I was told the truth, I looked at him, a toddler, and knew I could never let him become the spare blade for my father's katana.

A sword's blade is emotionless and unloving. I parents planned for this and realized that if I was allowed to socialize with my little brother I would grow soft. For many years I barely knew him at all, but when I did talk to him, he was different from anyone else I'd ever spoken to.

My family spoke to me with expectation. My classmates only spoke to me when it was absolutely necessary, and then in fear. My teachers and superiors spoke to me with a masked detest in their voices, as if they scorned me simply for the blood that ran through my veins. Sasuke was different; he spoke to me like I was a person instead of a weapon, and object of fear and hatred. He looked up to me with genuine admiration I'd never seen in any other person.

Maybe this was what real love was supposed to be like. I didn't know since I didn't have anything to compare it to. So I settled for the fact that, yes, Sasuke did love me the way a brother should: unconditionally. He was the only one. Eventually, I would find ways to spend time with him around what my parents had planned for us. They couldn't make it blatantly obvious they were trying to keep us apart, so they had to put up with it. I doubt they cared after a while, really, as long as my grades were better than top notch.

When I entered the ANBU, things became worse. Not only was I the weapon of my clan, I was now the weapon the government as well. The two have always rubbed head, and I in the position that I was, the clan decided that the time to act was imminent. That secret was underground, and likewise, Konoha fought back underground. Both sides wanted to use me, and I looked back and forth between the two sides and saw only a need for a weapon. A katana. Me.

Two enemies cannot fight with a single blade between the two of them. The one that gets the blade inevitably wins. The one that doesn't, dies. The blade as never had to make the choice of its master, so why now? Why me?

And in the midst of this great mental battlefield walked a child. The child did not know there was a battle and it did not see me as the blade, but as his big brother.

I must protect Sasuke

I must not let him see me as a weapon

I must not let him become the weapon

Not Sasuke.

He mustn't know.

Who would tell him? Who would make him my replacement? The Uchiha clan. If I thought of this battle as not one over power but as a battle over Sasuke, there was a clear protagonist. Sasuke would only be safe in the hands of the village, and so I made the most difficult choice in my life. But I made the right one, the one to disregard the people that cared not if I lived or died as long as the goal was accomplished and to protect the one person whose love I had slowly based my entire existence on.

Of course, there was a catch. Sasuke may live and thrive and survive and retain that iota of innocence of not knowing the true meaning of his surname, but he would hate me for the rest of his life. While I, the one who give everything for him, must run and live in shame until the end of my days.

I do not want him to be a weapon.

Sasuke must not become a weapon.

My choice is clear.


End file.
